"I was trying to call you my baby,
And tell the whole world you're my lady
But you kept telling me, "No"
Now you got a jones in your bones"
Devin Morrison – "No"
Two months.
Two months of Erik keeping to himself and going about his day as if their onetime hook-up had never happened.
Disa knew it embarrassed him about prematurely ejaculating after all that bravado and intense build-up with his mouth game on her pussy, and all that posturing in the past. She felt bad about the way their union had fizzled after three good thrusts. Truth be told, she was still thinking about the way he ate her pussy. His tongue was now her new best friend. Days later, she had wanted to try again with him, but he closed himself off.
Erik drove himself to school and stayed out late, often returning to her place just to sleep. In the morning she ate breakfast alone and caught her carpool rides and Lyfts to her own classes. Her doctorate dissertation was about to be defended by her keen intellect, and she had a graduation party to prepare for.
Dr. Disa Abdullah-Woods.
She rolled the words on her tongue. Dr. Abdullah? Dr. Abdullah-Woods? Dr. Disa?
Offers were coming in for jobs outside of academia. The salaries would just about cover her living expenses once her scholarship money ran out from M.I.T. She started squawking to higher-ups in her department about interviewing for a tenure-track position. One of her mentors had favorable things to say about her chances for the following fall semester. She already started sinking her head in books by bell hooks, Paulo Freire, Joy DeGruy, Alondra Nelson, Imani Perry, Ayana Jamieson and so many others that impacted her thinking over the years. Teaching needed to be approached with intention. What type of pedagogy would she bring to shape minds at M.I.T.? Her brain floated with ideas about architecture and Afrofuturism. Teaching hadn't been her calling, only practical applications of architecture was her dream, but Hollis was engaged now and she had to go to where the good money resided. For now, it was the academic track. Luckily, she had booked three paid speaking engagements for the following spring at two HBCUs and USC to supplement the coming financial crunch. She'd be able to see her father before he had his surgery in Los Angeles. She looked forward to going home and eating her mother's cooking and playing drums in person with her daddy and brothers.
Disa left notes on Erik's car in the morning. She left an hour earlier each day and taped tiny cards with positive affirmations on them to help him punch through. He was graduating at the same time as her. There were no words from him about the notes, but he left her a bag of her favorite coffee beans on the kitchen table. His own way of saying thank you for the encouragement.
By winter, they were like complete strangers, and it wasn't anything horrible. Just the pace of finishing degrees had taken precedent in their lives. She missed him. Terribly. After their sexual tryst, he was so vulnerable. He thwarted her first approach to address the awkwardness. He went out to party with friends and she just dropped it.
Before the New Year rang through fast and furious, she completed her dissertation and had it printed up in book form. Soon after, she met Paul Montgomery, an urban design architect at the New School in New York, where she tagged along with Yamilet to check out some TED Talks.
Paul was tall, cocoa brown, husky, and elegant, with his thick beard and contemptuous eyes. Arrogant men always attracted her. Perhaps it was her penchant for wanting to break them that caused her to approach him and ask questions that she already knew the answers to after his TED Talk. One coffee chat led to lunch. Lunch led to a spirited dinner. Before she knew it, Disa was dating another older man. She slept with him in his Manhattan loft several times before she invited him to one of her dinner soirées at her home. Paul became a reward for finishing her book and allowing her time to enjoy the last few months of being a postgrad student. Erik led his singular life, but Disa kept tabs on him through friends and the bi-weekly hair braiding that she still did for him. She once saw him walk across campus and paused in her tracks to admire the swag. He had gone on a trip to Italy and endured being part of a bridal party with his ex, Chloe. Erik didn't talk about the adventure, but she could tell that he had met someone by the way his confidence bounced back. There were hickies on his neck that he tried to hide from her.
For her March birthday, Disa threw a lavish dinner and invited Paul. Erik was extended an invitation, and she doubted he would attend because of his late-night jaunts to the library and burning the midnight oil in his father's journals. However, he attended the Saturday night bash in style, dressing up in a sexy dark sweater with crisp, dark slacks. His facial hair was thicker, and he was the most charming man at the dinner table. He sat next to her and Paul did, too. Ten sets of eyes and ears looked upon her with affection and grace and she enjoyed the party more because Yamilet and Tatum had it catered from her favorite Thai restaurant.
Before the birthday caramel cheesecake was around, she and Erik had become entrenched in a deep conversation about her dissertation.
"When can we read this masterpiece?" Paul asked, interrupting her musings with Erik.
He swirled his glass of white wine and kept an arm around her chair. She swiped her hair back and pressed her stomach closer to the table to steady the tipsy feel that the wine had her under. Paul's eyes were bright and brash.
"Show us the proof copies!" Yamilet encouraged.
Disa jumped up from the table and skedaddled into her bedroom. She ran back with her hands securely around a red and white printing of her work. Two-hundred and seventy-two pages of blood, sweat, and grit. She read the title out loud.
"Everyone, meet 'Mapping Architectures of Change: Decolonizing the Future of Housing in the Age of Climate Crisis'. It's a big baby!"
Everyone clapped, and a few of the men whistled. Erik leaned in and kissed her cheek quickly. The soft warmth from his lips made her close her eyes and hang for a second in suspended animation. Those same lips dragged up to her ear.
"I'm proud of you," he said.
Disa gazed into his eyes. She allowed him to read the book days earlier, but she didn't expect him to finish it so fast. Paul rubbed her shoulder to bring her attention back to him and the others.
"To Dr. Disa Abdulla-Woods!" Yamilet shouted, holding up her glass of wine.
Disa took a sip on her glass and her hand absently went up the side of her face and touched her cheek where Erik kissed her. The cheesecake was consumed, and they all sat and chatted. The topics pinged around the dining table and Paul inserted himself as the voice of authority. He'd become quite comfortable spreading his dominance in the space. Erik was less talkative, but he interjected a few times. In typical fashion, Yamilet brought up the politics of the day, and they all ruminated on the rapid ineffectiveness of the U.N. and new U.S. governmental agencies that sprung up within the year to contain fears of the Atlanteans and other geopolitical factions that flexed military might from the uncertainty. Paul poured himself another glass of wine and lamented the lack of vision that the U.S. President had by not using force to back up demands for peace. His meaty fingers spread out wide to gain the attention of everyone.
"The U.S. would do better to help the smaller countries along coastal areas to defend themselves against any future sneak attacks," Paul said.
"The U.S. only goes into countries where they can take something they need. Countries without resources that Americans can't exploit will get ignored as usual. As long as the Atlanteans don't mess with us again, the President doesn't give a fuck," Erik said.
"Bold words from someone going into the military," Paul said.
Erik sat back in his seat and let his dessert fork rest in his hand.
"I can serve the country and still not agree with its stance in the world."
"Why bother to enlist? You're a top student at M.I.T. Disa says you know Tony Stark personally. Why not go work for him instead?"
"Stark is all up in the military-industrial complex. He makes more money with war than selling tech to consumers. Gotta go into the belly of the beast so you can know its tricks."
"But what's your endgame, Erik? From what I know, you should be the first person against the military," Yamilet said.
"It's where all the new tech goes. I want to play with the high-end toys," Erik said.
"Hypocrite," Yamilet teased with a smile.
Disa looked at him.
"Seriously, why do it?" she asked.
"Learn about power from the inside. As an officer, I can have some influence one day. Work my way up the chain and maybe I can be like Colin Powell and become the Secretary of State. Advise the President. Influence foreign powers."
"Impressive goals," Paul said, tipping his glass toward Erik.
Disa had lived with Erik long enough to know he was lying. His family history and political makeup were anathemas to pro-military aspirations. There was cunning hidden behind those trickster brown eyes.
Her birthday dinner party lasted a few hours, but they ended it before eight so that Paul could whisk Disa away to a play. He made reservations for a hotel afterward and she grabbed her little weekend bag as she waved goodbye to friends. Leaving the house, the exuberant feelings dulled quickly. Paul was a terrible driver and his road rage had Disa complaining about his reckless maneuvering.
"We don't have to go so fast," she harped.
"I told you the party should've ended sooner."
"We were all having fun, and we have plenty of time. You are not Lewis Hamilton."
"Funny," he barked in a churlish tone.
They made it to the theater in one piece, but the mood continued to go downhill even faster. The play was terrible and Disa critiqued the hell out of it.
"You wanted to see it," Paul snapped.
They drank champagne in a hotel room overlooking downtown.
"I heard so many rave reviews. I hate when people over-hype things and it doesn't live up to my expectations."
She dug out her cell from her purse and texted Erik. She forgot to let him know a contractor was coming by to give an estimate on the roof that needed repairs before it rained again. A leak had sprung in her small study and water damage ruined the wood on her desk. More expenses were piling up for her. The entire roof needed to be re-done on the forty-year-old house, but Disa wanted to patch it up slowly until she had a job. Erik called her back.
"I put buckets on the floor in your office. It started raining already," Erik said.
"What?"
Disa dashed over to the hotel curtains and drew them back. Damn. The rain pattered against the thick glass. She had no idea the weather had transformed.
"I've got a tarp down under the buckets, so we should be okay. If the price is decent, what do want me to tell dude?"
They had given her an estimate of fifteen hundred dollars.
"Anything under two thousand, tell him yes and to start right away."
He must've heard the stress in her voice.
"It's not coming down too hard, so don't worry."
"Thanks for being there. My mind has been on my birthday weekend all week and I forgot he was coming tomorrow."
"It's all good. Have fun."
She hung up. Paul stared at her.
"Erik?" he asked.
"Yeah. I forgot to tell him about—"
"I heard."
Paul slipped out of his dress shoes and undid the cufflinks on his shirt.
"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you sounded like an old married couple."
Disa grinned.
"You only heard my voice in the conversation," she said.
"I meant earlier. At the house. Seemed like you spent more time conversing with Erik than with me."
Disa put down her cell and turned her back to him. Paul unzipped her cocktail dress.
"We're graduating at the same time. It was a tough academic year for both of us, and this was the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He's a great roommate. Quiet, clean, and—"
"Crazy about you."
She rolled her eyes. But her heart knew the truth. It was palpable at the table. Even Yamilet gave her coy looks when she spoke passionately about her book and Erik sat there eating up everything. Her body stayed twisted toward him. She missed talking to him and engaging his thoughts.
"When is he moving out?"
Paul sat on the bed and unfastened his shirt. Disa folded her dress and slip over the armrest of a wing-backed chair and unfastened her bra. She sighed at the joy of having her breasts freed from the push-up bra that had her tits showing out.
"He ships out at the start of December for basic training."
"He has a keen intellect. The navy must be paying a pretty penny to keep him. Naval Academy? M.I.T.? Fast track."
"An officer and a gentleman," she mused.
The broad grin on her face didn't match the neutral expression on Paul's face. Her full breasts didn't even distract him. She sensed tension. Her cell vibrated on the nightstand. A text from Erik.
The rain is easing up.
"Please turn that off," Paul said.
He slid his slacks off with his underwear. Six inches of erection pointed at her. Her breasts did arouse him. She swiped her phone to mute the sounds and wiggled out of her cute birthday thong. Her lover rested his face between her legs and jerked off. His lips kissed and sucked her folds and she grew excited watching his hand work his shaft. Eventually, their sex was nice and easy. No fireworks, but they had all weekend to make it better.
Before she fell asleep, she gazed out of the window to watch the drizzle of rain. She wondered what Erik was doing and wished she could sit and talk with him some more… about her book, his thesis, his plans for the future. She wondered if they would stay in touch after he left for his naval career. She hoped so.
